


Where the Sky Bleeds Gold

by death_frisbee



Category: Original Work, Reisekamaraten | The Traveling Companion - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: A Wicked Princess, Corpses, Fairy tale retelling, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-12 21:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17475554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/pseuds/death_frisbee
Summary: After the death of his father, Jehan leaves home to venture into the world. He doesn’t know whether his journey will end in fortune or misfortune, but the strange companion he picks up says he’s in the business of happy endings. Following him should be a good idea…even if it leads to curses, troll kings, and trying to win the affection of a blood-thirsty princess. But these things do tend to end happily…right?





	1. Chapter 1

                As far as lives went, Jehan’s wasn’t terribly exciting. He wasn’t particularly fortunate, but he wasn’t _un_ fortunate, either. He had no mother, but his father was a kind enough man. He had plenty of work on the family farm—which doubled as a comfortable home—and friends to meet with for drinks in town. He took his simple comforts and never asked for much more.  

                But then his father died. And with the farm sold—and the house with it—Jehan found there was nowhere to go but _out_. So out he went.

                There wasn’t as much sentimentality in leaving as he’d thought there’d be. His father dying had been sad and somewhat unexpected, yes, but he’d died peacefully, with no urgent missives or wise instructions for his son.  He’d never attached emotions to objects, and so Jehan had never learned to, either. The only possession of real value he took with him was his fine green coat, and it was only so because it was the most expensive thing he owned.

                There was no grand send-off from the town, no teary goodbyes or confessions of love. His friends wished him well, and he gave a last farewell to his father’s grave before turning his back on his hometown. In all, his leaving was surprisingly anticlimactic.

                That was fine by him. He never liked a fuss.

                Despite his plunging into the unknown, Jehan was optimistic. For now, he had a handful of coins in his pocket and fair weather to travel by. Whether he found his fortune or simply found some work, he was certainly on to bigger and better things.

                The first night of his journey, he stayed in an inn in the next town over. After getting the bill, he decided cheaper lodgings would be in order until he found a place to stay. He spent the day asking around about work, but no one was looking for laborers, and Jehan didn’t have much more to offer. Even so, he didn’t let himself be disheartened just yet. There were plenty of towns and plenty of opportunities out there; this was just his first stop.

                As the daylight waned, he wandered to the edge of the town as he considered his options. No one would want to take in a strange young man for the night; he’d be seen as a beggar at best and a threat at worst. But sleeping in the open didn’t seem like a viable option either. Just as he was considering using the last half of his coin to stay in the inn another night, his eyes caught sight of a saving grace.

                A _church._

                The stained glass windows of the little church were cheerfully lit, and the door didn’t appear to be locked. Jehan went to test it, sighing in relief as the door opened, and poked his head in. The chapel appeared to be empty. He debated abandoning his plan, not wanting to break in, but considered that the door _was_ open. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d throw him out of a _church_.

                He dutifully crossed himself upon entering, then settled in one of the pews by the door. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but he had a warm, dry place to stay the night. He wasn’t about to complain. And, with that day’s wandering, he was able to doze off fairly quickly.

                At least, until a loud commotion woke him up.

                He was automatically on alert, sitting up straight in his pew and ready to leave. Was it a nun about to kick him out? Or just some drunks outside getting too rowdy? He frowned as he listened. The noise wasn’t just _noise_ , it was voices. And while he couldn’t quite understand their full conversation, the foul language he caught told him that they were _not_ voices that belonged here.

                He stayed in place, heart hammering. Were they robbers? Should he leave? But he also couldn’t let a _church_ get robbed. So, grabbing a heavy candlestick from the altar (and asking the Lord’s forgiveness as he did), he took a deep breath and followed the voices.

                He wound his way out of the chapel, down a little path that led to the churchyard. The graves stood silently in the moonlight, and a pauper’s grave was open in the corner, with a shrouded body laid out to be buried. For a moment, his heart jumped as thought the edges of the white cloth were rippling on their own, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw two dark figures standing over the body, rifling beneath the shroud as they cursed at the corpse.

                Again, Jehan debated doing nothing. But his own father had been in that corpse’s position just a few days before—laid out and unable to protect himself—and the thought of someone treating his father’s body this way sent a flash of anger through him. He walked down the path, holding up the candle as he cried out, “Leave him alone!”

                The two men stilled, and the flickering candlelight caught their twin sneers as the looked up at him. The shorter of the two men scoffed and waved him away.

                “Get out of here, boy,” he growled. “This is no concern of yours.”

                Jehan braced himself, walking toward them as bravely as he could until he stood on the other side of the corpse. “You should know how wrong it is to mistreat the dead,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “This man here has no ill will toward you. He doesn’t have anything at all!”

                “This man?” The ruffian pointed at the corpse, then let out a rasping laugh. “Oh, he has plenty of ill-will toward us. This bastard owes us money, and he went and died on us to get out of his debt!”

                The other man nodded in agreement. “He’s going to pay one way or another,” he said, then pulled a knife from his hip. “I know some people who’ll pay a pretty penny for a nice heart and eyes.”

                “Don’t!” Jehan cried, only to recoil as the two laughed.

                “What’s he matter to you, boy? You’ve never even met him,” the first man said.

                “You’d best be getting home, anyway,” the second added, knife glinting threateningly in the candlelight. “There’s nothing for you to do here.”

                Jehan stepped back, hesitating. _Was_ there anything he could do? Well, what would he want someone to do for his father?

                He swallowed, then dug into his pocket. He pulled out his few remaining coins, holding them out for the men.

                “I’ll pay his debt,” he said. “This is all I have. Just…just let this man rest.”

                The men looked at his coins, then glanced at each other before the shorter man grinned sharply.

                “A real heart of gold you have, _friend_ ,” he said, taking the gold. “For being so kind, I’ll give you a bit of advice in exchange. No one likes a charity case, and if you keep helping useless causes…” He gestured to the dead man before them. “…you’ll die a damned fool like our friend here.”

                He gave Jehan a nod, then gestured for the other man to follow him out. Each gave Jehan a hearty clap on the shoulder with a laugh, then made their way out of the churchyard. Jehan watched them leave, suddenly aware that he was very alone in the churchyard, now without a penny to his name.

                Well, he was still doing better than the corpse, at least.

                He rubbed his face, then turned with a sigh, looking down at the dead man. He knew better than to lift the shroud; you never looked at a dead stranger’s face, lest it turn out to be your own. Even so, he tried to imagine the man beneath it—he must have been in pretty dire straits to die in debt to people like that.

                _If you keep helping useless causes…_

                Well, he was already a damned fool for helping a corpse. He might as well send this man off with a bit of comfort. He shrugged off his fine coat and laid it over the body.

                “There. You can at least be buried properly now,” he said, sitting on the ground with his candle. “I’ll stay with you tonight and make sure they don’t come back.” He paused for a moment, then added, “My father hadn’t wanted to be left alone; I won’t leave you alone, either.”

                The corpse said nothing in return.

                Jehan sighed and settled back against a tombstone. He really was a damned fool, giving everything he had for a man who could never repay him, who at this point was just an empty husk.

                But, as he shut his eyes, he was _sure_ that the ruffian had been wrong. He was a fool, yes, but a kind fool. And in the end, that would have to count for _something._

                He hoped so, at least.


	2. Chapter 2

                Jehan kept his promise, staying by the corpse all night. It was much colder and much less comfortable than he would have been in the chapel, but Jehan didn’t like going back on his word—even to a dead man.

                But morning came soon enough, and he considered his work done. He gave the corpse a quiet goodbye, wishing him well on his journey from here, and set on out of the village.

                His mood wasn’t as light as he walked this time. He had no money, no coat, and no job. Quite frankly, prospects looked grim. He tried his best not to despair, because of course it’d do him no good, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to be optimistic as he trudged down the road out of town. Of course, it didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well in the graveyard, especially after all of his wandering thus far. His feet dragged, his eyes drooped; he was _exhausted._ And that, he realized, might be the source of his bad mood.

                He tried to push the exhaustion aside, but by the time an hour had passed, he _needed_ to rest. He walked off the road, dropping into the long, green grass with a sigh. This probably wasn’t his best idea, but there wasn’t much else he could do. Plus, the risk was less than the reward—best case scenario, he got some rest and was able to carry on to find work; worst case scenario, he got his throat slit in his sleep, which would, admittedly, take care of a lot of his problems.

                He leaned back in the grass, letting out a sigh as he shut his eyes. Things could be worse. The day was warm, the air was clear, the grass was very soft. It was as pleasant a place for a nap as you could hope for. He’d just doze for a few minutes, then get back to his fortune-seeking. Just a few minutes…

                “Hey! It’s dangerous to lay out in the open like that!”

                Jehan jumped up at the chiding, looking around frantically as his heart pounded. For a moment, he thought he might have dreamed the shout, but the grass rustled behind him as a shadow covered him. He looked up to see the man who had spoken towering over him and looking at him with concern. He was long and lean, with dark hair poking out from under a wide-brimmed, threadbare hat. He looked worn, with hard, dark eyes and a stern mouth, but he didn’t seem malicious. Jehan blinked at him, then stifled a yawn.

                “I know. I know. I just…last night…” How could he even explain last night? Keeping a corpse company had seemed like the thing to do then, but in the daylight…well, it was up there with sleeping out in the open. He shook his head. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to worry you, friend. I won’t do it again.”

                The man stared down at him, sucking his teeth for a moment before he held out a hand to help Jehan up. “Are you heading east, too?” he asked shortly.

                “Uh, I guess I am?” Jehan brushed the grass off of his clothes. “Honestly, I’m just trying to get _somewhere._ I don’t have a preference where I end up.”

                The man’s lip twitched up. “It’s dangerous, wandering like that.”

                “Is _everything_ dangerous?”

                “When traveling into the unknown? Yes, very.” He adjusted his green coat. “But it _is_ less dangerous with a companion. If you don’t have a preference where you’re headed, why don’t we walk together?”

                Jehan’s eyebrows rose, and he grimaced. “I’m just looking for work as soon as I can. I don’t want to slow you down.”

                The man shrugged, already starting to walk. “I’m in no hurry to get where I’m going.”

                Jehan’s brows drew together, and he quickly caught up to the man. “Look, I appreciate your offer, but…” He swallowed. “I haven’t got any money. Or skills. Or…anything to offer, really. I’m not much of a companion.”

                The man glanced at him. “Can you talk?”

                “Well…yes.”

                “Can you listen?”

                “Of course.”

                “Then that’s all I need in a companion.” A smile finally crossed his face, tired but genuine. “And I hope it’s all you need, too, because that’s all I can offer in return.”

                Jehan stared at him. This was…strange. But, well, being able to talk with someone would make the traveling go quickly, and it _was_ significantly safer than wandering around on his own. He stuck his hands into his pockets as he fell into step with him.

                “Do you have a name?”

                “Technically not anymore.” He glanced over, catching Jehan’s concerned look. “Long story.”

                “Don’t you need a name?”

                “Not really.” He paused for a moment, then added, “But people used to call me Lazlo.”

                “Mm.” Maybe he should have tried harder to shake this traveling companion of his. Ah, well, too late now. “I’m Jehan.”

                “It’s a pleasure, Jehan.”

                For several steps, they walked in silence. Jehan stole as many glances as he could at Lazlo without outright staring at him. For as stern as he looked when he first arrived, now he looked all around them in wonder, dark eyes bright. Certainly the day was fine, but had he never seen a meadow before? Plus, there was something about him that was familiar, but Jehan couldn’t quite place it just yet.

                “So…where is it that you’re going?” he asked slowly.

                Lazlo’s wonder faded, and he squinted one eye in an odd sort of grimace. “It…doesn’t really have a name. Or, if it does, it’s not one I’m familiar with.”

                “Do you have something against names?”

                Lazlo’s brow furrowed at Jehan’s question, but he let out a laugh once it clicked. “No, no. I like names plenty. It’s just…it’s complicated, and I don’t think I’m able to explain it.” He gave Jehan a smile. “If I knew the name, I’d tell you. It should be very exciting when I get there.”

                Jehan perked up, an idea hitting him. “Well, maybe I could join you there? If you’re already heading that way, I might be able to find some work there.”

                Lazlo’s brows furrowed again, and he sucked his teeth as he walked in silence. Finally, a small smile crossed his face as he shook his head. “No, no. I don’t think there’ll be anything for you there. At least, not right now. But there should be plenty of opportunities for you along the way, and like I said, I’m in no hurry.”

                Jehan gave a slow nod, but stayed silent. Something about this was… _strange_ , but then, his journey so far had been strange. And if he’d been willing to spend the night with a dead man and get his throat slit for some sleep, surely a weird companion with a thing against names was pretty in line with the rest of his time wandering. Now if he could just pinpoint what about him was so familiar…

                Before he could dwell on what it could be, a loud clattering up ahead cut off his thoughts. He looked up just in time for Lazlo to tug his arm hard, sending them both tumbling into the grass off the road. The clattering grew even louder, and Jehan looked up to see—with two shrieks, one animal and one human—a cart careen past them before crashing into a ditch off the road.

                He and Lazlo looked at each other for a moment before scrambling to their feet. Lazlo was quicker, getting to the cart in just a few seconds while Jehan looked over the carnage. The driver seemed unharmed for the most part—he was up and moving, at least, and didn’t have any obvious injuries—but the rest of the cart looked to be in bad shape. The driver clutched his head as he looked at the scene.

                “Oh, no, no no _no._ ” He jumped down into the ditch despite Lazlo and Jehan calling for him not to, immediately making his way to the horse down inside. “Oh, Sophia, _no!_ ”

                The horse let out a panicked squeal in reply as Lazlo slid down into the ditch. He reached out to touch the driver’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, are you all right? Should you—”

                The driver whirled around, eyes frenzied. “ _Me?_ What do _I_ matter? Do you not see the state my Sophia’s in?” He covered his face and let out a grieved noise. Jehan peeked down into the ditch to look at the horse (who he assumed was Sophia). One of her forelegs was twisted in a horribly unnatural angle—it looked like the bone had snapped clean in two. He hissed sympathetically; he’d only seen an animal in that bad shape once on the farm—a little calf—and the only thing that they could do then was have a veal supper that night. He looked back to the driver as he paced back and forth.

                “I can’t get her home like this,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “But she’s…I can’t let her lie like that, either.” He sniffed hard, rubbing his face. “I didn’t bring anything with me…It’s going to be _horrible_ , but a rock…”

                “Let’s not jump to the worst case scenario just yet,” Lazlo said again, gently taking the driver’s shoulders. Once he got him to look at him, he asked, “Do you mind if I take a look at her?”

                The driver sniffed, then shook his head. “Don’t see what difference it’ll make.”

                “It can’t hurt, right?” He looked up at Jehan, subtly nodding for him to come closer, then looked back to the driver. “My friend Jehan here will help you get your things. I’ll take a look at Sophia, and then we can decide what to do with her.”

                Jehan leaned down, extending his hand out to the driver to help him out. “All right, up we go.” It took a bit of effort, but he managed to pull him out from the ditch. “Are you sure you’re all right? Your head doesn’t hurt or anything?”

                The driver shook his head, making his way back to the cart. Jehan lingered by the ditch for a moment, watching Lazlo slowly approach Sophia. She snorted suspiciously, but he spoke to her—too softly for Jehan to hear—and reached out to stroke her muzzle with a small smile. He glanced up as he caught sight of Jehan, then waved for him to head toward the cart. Jehan hesitated, but nodded and made his way back to the driver, setting a hand on his shoulder hesitantly.

                “So, uh, let’s see what we can save. What were you delivering?”

                The driver rubbed his face. “Wasn’t deliverin’ nothing yet. I go…I go and pick up orders from the village, then take it back home. We’re jussa coupl’a houses and the inn. And if I don’t have Sophia…” His voice caught, and Jehan shushed him gently.

                “Shh, shh. Don’t worry about Sophia, Lazlo’s taking good care of her,” he soothed. “And if anything, this is...uh, well it’s sort of lucky in a way.” At the driver’s shocked look, he quickly added, “I mean, that you weren’t carrying anything. No one’s orders got lost, and I, uh, I bet you would’ve gotten even more hurt with a full cart.” He swallowed. “Uh, what’s…what’s your name?”

                The driver rubbed his face again. “Jordi. I…”

                “Shh. Look, Jordi, let’s get the little bit of your things that spilled out. Then we can figure out what to do next.”

                With a little more encouragement, Jordi and Jehan started to gather the food and clothes that had scattered in the crash. As he shook off the last of his shock, Jordi explained what had happened. It had been business as usual, just him and Sophia heading to the village, but an errant branch had spooked Sophia and she had just _bolted_. Ordinarily, Jordi would be able to handle this sort of thing without a problem…but in the excitement, his back wheel had broken. He’d been more concerned about not breaking his neck in the chaos than anything else.

                “And look where it got me,” he said, voice thick with emotion once again, twisting a scarf in his hands. “Now Sophia will…”

                He was cut off by a whinny behind them. They both turned to see Lazlo carefully guiding Sophia out of the ditch, all four of her legs strong and steady. Lazlo patted her muzzle with a smile, laughing as she bumped her nose against his face.

                “Here we are,” he said cheerfully. “She was just a little spooked was all, but she’s right as rain now.”

                Jordi dropped his scarf, a breathless wheeze escaping him as he ran up to her. Sophia bumped her nose against his face as well with a pleased chuff, and he let out a relieved laugh.

                “Oh, Sophia, my _lovely_ Sophia. I thought I’d have to…” He laughed again as he patted her nose.

                As much as Jehan wanted to be pleased about the turn in events, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow at Lazlo, whose smile didn’t waver as he waved for him to come over. He hesitated for a moment, but walked over to the edge of the ditch. Lazlo shrugged off his coat and set it in the grass, setting his hat on top of it before hopping back down.

                “Here, come down here and help me.” He waved up to Jordi. “We’ll get your cart out for you, friend!” he called as Jehan hopped down. He rolled up his sleeves, then looked back to Jehan. “It shouldn’t be that hard. On the count of three, we’ll push.”

                They both set their hands on the side, and on the count of three, they pushed the cart out with surprising ease. Again, Jehan furrowed his brows at Lazlo, but his companion was already out of the ditch and walking around the cart to inspect it by the time he tried to say anything. Jehan sighed. Again, he was very aware of the _strangeness_ surrounding Lazlo, but…well. Might as well get Jordi taken care of before he addressed it.

                He pulled himself out of the ditch, walking over to find Lazlo staring at the broken wheel, sucking his teeth as he squinted at it.

                “Well, you weren’t wrong about the wheel,” he said, crouching down to touch it. A fairly large chunk of wood was missing between spokes; it’d need to be completely replaced. This time, though, neither Jordi or Jehan said anything about that, glancing at each other before Lazlo stood up. “But I think there’s a trick I know to help. Hang on.”

                He loped off the road, toward a copse of trees nearby. Jordi laughed as he shook his head.

                “Your friend’s awfully innovative, isn’t he?”

                Jehan blinked. “Oh, he’s not…I mean, we just met.” He frowned curiously, glancing back toward the thicket. “But he _is_ surprisingly resourceful.” He leaned back, giving Sophia another once over. She shouldn’t be standing so strong, not with the broken leg she’d had. So how had Lazlo…

                “Ah, Jehan, would you mind helping?”

                Jehan nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard Lazlo’s voice beside him, and he whirled around so fast he nearly fell back. Lazlo caught his arm with a laugh.

                “Did I really scare you?”

                “You can’t be so quiet!”

                Lazlo chuckled. “My apologies, I’ll stomp around from now on.” He crouched down to the wheel, bending a thin but sturdy stick as he did. “Now, hold the branch to this part here.” As Jehan held the branch, Lazlo dug around in his small pack. “I should have…yes, here we are.” He pulled out two leather cords. “So now I just tie it like this…good, now hold the other side.” He made short work of the repair—carefully bending the branch and tying it tightly to the wheel. Once he tied off the end, he stood up.

                “Now, this won’t do for very long; you’ll need a wheel as soon as possible,” he said, dusting off his hands. “But it _should_ get you to the next cartwright well enough.”

                Jordi made his way over to look at Lazlo’s handiwork, then took off his cap and shook his head.

                “You two are _angels,_ ” he said earnestly. “Thank you so much for your kindness.” He swallowed. “I don’t have anything to give, but if I had _some_ way to repay you…”

                Lazlo held up his hands. “We’re glad to help, don’t even worry.” He squinted curiously at the wagon. “Though, if you don’t mind me asking, which way were you headed?”

                “Westward, toward the village that way. But with the wheel, well, I’ll be doublin’ back home, I think; we’re only a half-hour’s drive from there.”

                “And home is…eastward?”

                “Yes, sir.”

                Lazlo glanced at Jehan, a twinkle in his dark eyes before he looked back at Jordi. “Well, friend, if it’s not _too_ much trouble, would you mind taking us with you? We’re headed eastward ourselves and could do with some rest and a place to stay by nightfall. I know Sophia’s up to the task, and if this fix could take all of my brothers and I into the town, it could certainly handle me and my slight friend here.”

                Jordi gave them both a grateful smile. “Aye, I think I can do that for you; my brother-in-law runs the inn, so I might be able to get you a room besides.” He walked back to Sophia, patting her nose. “Let’s get you hitched up, girl, and then we’ll be on our way.”

                Lazlo grinned, thanking him, then headed back to the grass to gather his coat and hat. Jehan glanced back at Jordi, making sure he was busy with hitching Sophia, then quickly made his way to Lazlo’s side. His companion had paused in the grass, very intently pulling out what looked like jagged ferns.

                Jehan took a breath, bracing himself, then knelt down beside him as he hissed, “What _was_ that?”

                Lazlo looked up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Mugwort,” he said, holding up the plants. “Good for when you’re ill at ease, and my grandmother always said it ensured safe travels. Funny to find it out here, though. I—”

                Jehan shook his head. “Not that, the _horse._ ” He leaned in, keeping his voice soft as he narrowed his eyes. “Her leg was _broken._ I grew up on a farm, so I know what that looks like. Animals with legs like that don’t get fixed because they’ve stopped being ‘spooked’. So tell me, Lazlo, _what_ did you _do_?”

                Lazlo blinked, then looked down at the mugwort in his hand as he let out a slow breath. Finally, he gave Jehan a strange smile. “I’m…experienced in this sort of thing.” His gaze drifted toward nothing in particular, and he let out a little laugh, like he’d thought of an inside joke. “You could say I’m in the business of happy endings.” He stood up, putting the mugwort in his pack before setting his hat on his head. “Anyway, we’d best get moving. Don’t want to get left behind when we’ve got a free ride.”

                Jehan frowned hard. No. _No._ He was _not_ getting away with a non-answer like that. He stood up, ready to say that, but he felt the air leave his lungs as Lazlo pulled on his green coat, flashing two letters embroidered on the sleeve.

                Not just any two letters. Initials. _Jehan’s_ initials.

                No wonder he’d seemed familiar. He was wearing Jehan’s coat.

                “Jehan?” Lazlo’s voice was quiet, a look of concern creeping onto his face. He shook his head.

                “Where…where did you get that coat?” he asked, just barely managing to wheeze the question out with the little air left in his lungs.

                Lazlo blinked, looking down at his sleeves. “This? Oh, some fella gave it to me in the village. Over by the church, actually.”

                Jehan bit back a frustrated noise. Stupid, _stupid._ He really was a fool for giving anything to a dead man, those two men had been right. In fact, _they_ were probably the ones who’d sold the coat to Lazlo. He’d thought he’d be fine with being a kind fool, but _this_ was too much of a slap in the face.

                He had to salvage what was left of his dignity. He couldn’t lose _everything_ for a man who couldn’t even keep the gift he’d been given. He’d demand his coat back. Tell Lazlo that it’d been stolen. Give up on being stupidly kind while he was at it; after all, all he had to show for his kindness was some sort of… _weird magician_ for a companion.

Maybe it was petty to get so worked up over a coat, but _damn it all_ he needed _something_ as he went out into the world. He didn’t need a strange friend. He didn’t need kindness. This time he’d be shrewd and hard and alone and…

                “Jehan? Are you all right?”

                He blinked. Lazlo’s voice was even softer now, but it broke through his thoughts clear as a bell. He looked up at him, startled a bit by the dark eyes focused on his face. He took a moment to look Lazlo over. His face was worn beneath the concern, his shirt was ragged and his trousers were patched and his threadbare hat was nearly gray from how it’d been bleached in the sun. It was clear he didn’t have much before the coat.

                Jehan’s eyes darted over to Jordi, waving them over with a wide grin. And…well, for all of the witchcraft or whatever it was Lazlo did, he did seem to really be in the business of happy endings. The least he could get for his troubles was a fine coat…besides, Jehan had only liked it so much because it was expensive. There were better things to be had in the great scheme of things.

                Maybe he was still a fool. But better a kind fool than shrewd and bitter, he figured.

                “I just…it suits you well,” he finally said, putting on a small smile. “It’s a fine coat.”

                Lazlo grinned, looking at the coat again. “ _Very._ It’s the nicest thing I’ve had in ages.” He nodded toward the cart. “But much as I like admiring it, I think we’d best get going. I’m exhausted after all this.” He knocked his hand lightly against Jehan’s arm as he led the way to the cart. “And it’s _much_ less dangerous to nap in a cart than it is in a field.”

                Jehan smiled, crossing his arms as he watched Lazlo gracefully hop into the cart, hardly even jostling it. He still wasn’t quite sold on having…whatever Lazlo was as a traveling companion. But for all of his quirks, there seemed to be something good there.

                And if he really _was_ in the business of happy endings, maybe he’d help Jehan find his…whatever that would even be.

               

               

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little project. No set update schedule planned. I've wanted to do a retelling of The Traveling Companion for years, and this seems like a good time to.


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